


would've broke my heart in two (trying to save a part of you)

by peterneds



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hospitals, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Podfic Welcome, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23640067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterneds/pseuds/peterneds
Summary: “Look at me, hey,” Ned coaxes. He caresses Peter’s cheek, his brow, traces his lips, all the details he’s trying to remember, the bump on his nose, his eyes.Peter can barely stand to look him in the eyes now, guilt taking over his body. But he does it, he does it for Ned.“You were the best thing that ever happened to me, baby.” His breaths are coming slower. “You were all I could’ve asked for.”/title from 'i'll never love again' by lady gaga
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds/Peter Parker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	would've broke my heart in two (trying to save a part of you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MsLalaga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLalaga/gifts).



There’s a certain kind of fear, Peter thinks. A certain, special kind, in life-threatening situations, when it’s not just you in it.

When someone you love is in it.

Peter hadn’t meant for it to happen and he’ll tell you so till the day he dies. There’s an emergency protocol in his suit, if his heart rate slows down too much, his emergency contacts will be notified. The first, Tony. 

No response, he knows.

The second one, Ned. 

Ned hadn't even been able to hack the suit to disarm it - Peter wishes he had been able to, he thinks more than anything. If he had been able to then it wouldn't have happened like this.

* * *

There’s something heavy on his chest pinning him to the ground when he regains consciousness and he fails to lift it when he tries. He thinks he can hear a voice - from whatever man it was tonight that felt like doing illegal shit on Peter’s turf. It’s the same tone of disgust - bordering on evil - that he’d heard while fighting, so he can safely assume they’re the same voice coming from the same person. 

He struggles for a few moments before he manages to lift the object from his chest, only to drop it right back onto himself when he hears another voice. 

A voice he could recognize anywhere. 

“...Peter?” Ned calls his name and Peter is _really_ trying not to lose it right now. 

His eyes shift between Bad Guy and Boyfriend - they’re a safe distance apart but if Peter pays Ned any mind then he’ll blow Ned’s cover. Okay, this is fine. Peter tries to raise a finger to his mouth to try and let Ned know to keep his mouth shut but the _damned_ unknown object prevents him from doing so. 

“Ned,” he whispers, “ _Ned,_ you gotta go home, I got this under control.”

He walks closer and steps on some rubble - and that’s it, Peter knows. Bad Guy’s head turns towards the love of his life and the metal flies across the alley. Peter stumbles and tries not to trip over his own feet for once in his life when it really matters. 

He sees Bad Guy pull a handgun and attempts to tackle him to the ground, but the sound of a shot rings in his ears by the time he’s down. 

In some kind of universal irony, there is one streetlight illuminating Ned’s face like a spotlight as his eyes widen and he chokes on a gasp. 

“ _Ned,_ ” he sobs. His arms are wrapped tightly around Bad Guy’s neck and he doesn’t even realize he’s squeezing until he’s thrown over onto his back. Bad Guy makes a snarky remark but he can’t hear anything except Ned’s labored breaths and his fucking _heartbeat_ is so loud. He kicks himself back up and runs the guy into a wall, headbutts him once, twice, webs him to it and he’s never beaten someone so brutally before. He sees blood coming from his head and punches the guy square between the eyes and he’s unconscious. 

Peter still kicks the shit out of him a couple more times before he remembers - 

“Hey,” Ned chokes out. “Peter, stop it.”

Peter’s by his side in record time, eyes running up and down his body, applying pressure to his bullet wound - he bites back the bile rising in his throat - and cupping Ned’s face. 

“You shouldn’t have-shouldn’t have done that,” Ned gasps, looking into Peter’s eyes.

Peter curses under his breath. “Ned, he fucking _shot_ you, I-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers. “Baby, it's gonna be okay."

“No, Ned, it’s not! You have a-a goddamn bullet inside you, this isn’t supposed to happen, I’m supposed to make sure this doesn’t happen,” he sobs. “How could I let this happen to you?”

Ned lifts a hand to the back of Peter’s neck and brings his head down closer to his own. “It’s not your fault, Pete, you know that.”

“It is,” he breathes. “It is. I’m sorry, Ned, I’m so, so sorry, I love you so much, I’m _sorry._ ”

Ned presses his lips to Peter’s forehead, “My love, it’s okay, hey? My sweet boy, I’ve loved you so much, it’s okay now. It’s okay.”

Peter hides his face in Ned’s neck, his only safe place that he thought couldn’t be touched by the world. He feels so fucking naive, now, his love comforting him when he _knows_ this is all his fault. He knows it.

“Look at me, hey,” Ned coaxes. He caresses Peter’s cheek, his brow, traces his lips, all the details he’s trying to remember, the bump on his nose, his eyes. 

Peter can barely stand to look him in the eyes now, guilt taking over his body. But he does it, he does it for Ned. 

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me, baby.” His breaths are coming slower. “You were all I could’ve asked for.”

He sniffles and wipes his snot on his sleeve and blinks back his tears to look at his face. He deserves that much. “Don’t, Ned, _please._ ”

“Look,” his voice is nearly inaudible. “You can see the stars tonight, my love. They’re here for you.”

Peter’s throat is closing up so much so it’s almost impossible to get words out anymore, he chokes on his tears, he pleads, “Please, God, please. _Please._ Ned, please.”

Ned manages to turn his head, and he wouldn’t have chosen to go out any other way than looking at his perfect boy, his perfect love, his one. His eyes are fluttering, Peter’s face coming in and out of focus. 

“I love you,” he exhales. 

“Ned?” Peter whispers. He lifts his head and sees Ned’s open, unblinking eyes. “Ned! Ned, please, no,” he shakes him, his limp body only moving just so. 

Peter lays his head on Ned’s chest, searching for his heartbeat, he finds his wrist and feels for a pulse, he waits for Ned’s lungs to fill.

“No,” he wails. “Please, _god,_ no.”

* * *

He lays there for hours, exhaustion getting the best of him. He slept there, in a disgusting alley that the love of his life should not have died in. He doesn’t-he doesn't know where to _take_ him. 

He calls the police and it all happens like in a movie. They lay his stiff body out on a stretcher and Peter didn’t think it possible for his heart to break anymore. 

An officer wraps a blanket around his shoulders while another calls May down - he feels stupid, he was fighting all the way downtown, stupid, Ned’s _mom -_

He runs to a garbage can and vomits. 

Ned’s mom.

What has he _done?_

* * *

May takes him home and talks to him but Peter doesn't hear a thing, eyes glazed over. He feels blood drying on his hand and gasps like the air’s been punched out of him when he remembers.

“It’s okay,” May says softly, her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of Peter’s neck. “I’ll take care of it when we get home, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, May,” he rasps. “May, he’s-he’s _gone,_ he’s-he’s-May-”

May pulls over on the side of the road and sorts Peter’s body so she’s cradling him and kisses his hair, his forehead. She whispers, “it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” while Peter chokes and gets stuck on his words until he can breathe again.

They drive home in silence, and Peter refuses to wash his hand once they're up in their apartment.

It makes him sick to his stomach, but he deserves it.

* * *

They have a funeral nine days after. 

Peter manages to get himself seated in the viewing room before he sees Ned’s family and runs out to the bathroom to get sick. He stays there throughout the whole service, laid out on the floor with his knees to his chest, trembling so hard the toilet is rattling. 

There’s a gentle knock on the door and Peter closes his eyes and tries to stay silent because he knows who it is. 

“Peter, we’re gonna go home now, okay?” May says gently from outside the stall. 

“Mm-mm,” he sounds.

“Why not?” She asks, getting down and sitting on the floor with him.

“I can’t–” he takes a shaky breath. “Can’t leave him.”

May reaches her hand under the door and rests it on his shoe. “He’s not inside anymore.”

Peter retches. 

* * *

He manages to leave, eventually. After the third employee threatened to remove him forcibly, he figured he should go out with a little bit of dignity left.

“You can go back without me,” he mutters to May as they’re walking towards the car. 

May stops and looks at him. “You’re sure?”

Peter nods. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” she leans up and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Come sleep in your bed tonight, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods again. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” she says immediately. She gets in the car and gives him one last look before she drives away.

It’s rained every day since that night, and Peter’s shoes are getting muddy as he drags himself over to Ned’s -

To Ned. 

There’s a bouquet of flowers, too colorful and beautiful for a place like this. For a day like today.

Peter thinks he might get sick again before his eyes catch onto the words engraved into the stone. _Edward Leeds, November 10th, 2001 - September 17, 2020._

_Fuck._

He lays down in the grass and presses his forehead to the cool stone. He takes a few shuddering breaths before he gasps out, “I’m _sorry_ , Ned, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think and-and I should've called the cops sooner and maybe you would’ve had a-a chance, I feel so fucking stupid, I feel so-so guilty and it’s my _fault_ , Ned! It’s my-it’s my-my-”

He gets stuck again like he’s choking, and he can’t calm himself down. The rain picks up and hits his back like rocks but he can’t even fucking feel it anymore. He’s gonna have to take this to his grave - he’s gonna have to live with this forever. He can’t fucking breathe.

* * *

He'd somehow managed to swing to the emergency room before the ambulance arrived, and he’d sat in the waiting room trembling like a fucking _leaf_. He’d felt no pulse, heard no heartbeat, but there was still a part of him that hadn't realized yet. A part of him that still held out hope.

They wheeled him in and shouted all kinds of things. He was told they were going to shock him because there might have still been a chance, even though he spent the whole goddamn night bleeding out in an alleyway, and Peter believed them because they kept him on life support for three days after that.

Peter didn’t sleep, he barely ate, and he never left Ned’s side. His mom came down and he felt so selfish - felt a horrible sense of guilt and hopelessness when the doctors told her there was nothing left to do. 

When she told the doctor they could pull the plug, Peter climbed into the hospital bed and tucked himself up under Ned’s arm, curled into him like a child. He tried to imagine Ned was just sleeping, that they were just taking a nap and would be up in time for dinner. He brought Ned’s limp hand to his mouth and kissed each fingertip, each knuckle, the inside of his wrist. With each press of his lips he asked Ned to forgive him, he pleaded with him even though he already knew Ned didn’t blame him. 

He nuzzled into Ned’s neck and ignored how cold his skin was to wrap his arm around his waist and twine their fingers together. 

“I don’t think I could have ever got this far without you, Ned. And I don’t know how to keep going without you, so I need you to send me a sign, okay?” he whimpers mournfully. “I don’t know how it all works but I know you’re somewhere good, god, I hope you’re somewhere good. I need you to still be with me, please. If you’re not still with me, I can’t -” he feels a lump form in his throat and takes a breath before he begins again. 

“I won’t be able to do it, Ned, so I just need you to do that one thing for me, okay? Just please don’t leave me alone here,” he chokes. 

The curtain is pulled back around the bed and Peter kisses him one last time before he manages to pull himself away. 

“I love you so much,” he whispers and walks out of the room.

He makes it about five feet before he falls to the ground and erupts into sobs, holding himself so tight he forgets to breathe. People pass by but he doesn't notice or care to try. He doesn't know how long he’s there for but Ned’s mom has left the hospital and it’s dark out by the time he manages to leave. 

He’s walking with his head down and his - Ned’s - hood up when he sees the reflection of the sky in a puddle on the pavement. It’s a full moon tonight and when he turns his head towards the sky he somehow feels like he can see every star. The clouds roll back and the air clears as he stares, unmoving. 

A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it star shoots across the sky and Peter feels the air punch out of him. 

“Thank you,” he whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt fill for mslalaga - oops i forgot your happy ending lmao i hope you still enjoyed and i'm sorry it took so long!
> 
> this fic actually made me so sad and I literally felt nauseous writing it it was weird and so hard to write. also listen to forever and always by parachute for maximum angst
> 
> i'm still taking prompts during quarantine for everyone who needs a distraction so you can comment your prompts here or on my post titled 'an important note from me' :)
> 
> talk to me on twitter & tumblr @ hcllnd please I am so bored in self iso 
> 
> love you all and hope you're staying safe and healthy
> 
> \- bella <3


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